#i love football so much

[bri-cheeses]

moodboard for the Rosekiller football au that I am going to write someday 💕

[20-th-centurygirl]

what the actual fuck

[spicysucculentz]

every pic I see of Aaron Rodgers with the jets gets me exponentially more excited😮‍💨 I was an avid Aaron Rodgers hater for years but now that he’s a jet??? And he got rid of that stupid ass haircut??? I’m excited ngl! He’s fucking weird but one of the best QBs to ever play the game so I’ll take it !!!! Best win now option by far oh my god I’m so excited

[littlecrittereli]

for the reqs, how about drawing your fav chris creature suit(s)? ^_^

Okay so, my favorite Chris power suit is actually the gazelle, but I've already drawn that a few times, and I just need to express my undying love for THE INDRI POWER SUIT

I GET SO MUCH CUTENESS AGGRESSION FROM IT,

JUST LOOK AT HIM UGHHOUUHGHGH HES SO!!!!! SHAPED!!!!! I've seen so many people saying it looks weird BUT HES JUST SO GOOFY I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!! HIS BIG OL EYES I CANNTTT AHHH

[lamentable-comedy]

obsessed with the fact that baz is so good at seeming cool on the outside that no one notices he's never actually made a friend in his life.

at watford he hung out with his cousin (would have known him before school) and his cousin's roommate (dev made friends with niall and brought him along to hang out with baz). in carry on and after watford his friends are penny (package deal with simon) and shepard (decided he was friends with the group of them regardless of what they wanted).

this man doesn't know how to make friends. he knows how to have the same taste in friends as his relatives and boyfriend. and how to stand around looking cool and aloof so that people think he's mysterious instead of an awkward loser. i adore him.

[inoreuct]

punkflower where hobie loves the morales family, loves how they’re becoming HIS family.

still, the first time jeff calls him “son”, he has such a visceral reaction.

he knows it’s coming from a good place and he knows he should be touched, but he’s only ever been called son in a condescending way. in a “know your place beneath me and stay in it” way. he feels so sick all of a sudden, nausea roiling in his gut, and his knee bangs against the underside of the table as he screeches his chair back and mutters a shaky “’scuse me”.

he hears rio’s concerned call of his name, sees the confusion and dread on jeff’s face right before he turns and leaves. he doesn’t stop until he’s up on the roof, ducking into the bottom of the water tower and collapsing into a corner.

stupid. it’s so stupid, and it pisses him off how tears are burning down his cheeks.

hobie scrubs them away with the back of his wrist even as he hears the door to the roof creak open, hears the familiar gait that he knows belongs to miles. he keeps his face turned away as his boyfriend appears in his line of sight, stepping gingerly like if he moved too fast hobie would break.

the punk sniffs angrily, the spikes on his cuff poking his cheek as he wipes his tears again. a hand brushes his against the ground as miles sits down beside him, close enough to touch but not quite.

he waits. for miles to say something, anything; to ask for an explanation, or offer words of comfort that will ultimately only make him feel worse.

in the end, it’s him that breaks the silence.

“i’m sorry,” he offers, and cringes. his voice is thick like rusted metal, scratchy in his throat. it’s scraping up against old wounds that never really healed, pulling at scabs to draw fresh blood, and it stings. “m’sorry, i just— he’s—” it feels damning to even say these words, but it’s the truth, and hobie’s never been a good liar.

doesn’t mean it’s not eating him alive, though.

“he’s still a cop, miles,” he chokes out, guilt winching around his lungs like a parasite, “and the last time a cop called me son—” hobie’s breath shudders out of his lungs as miles crawls into his space, ducking his head beneath hobie’s arm to press the punk’s face to his chest.

“i know,” miles murmurs, wrapping his fingers around hobie’s nape as hobie scrunches a desperate fist into the back of his shirt. “i know. i understand.”

hobie doesn’t think he really does, but that’s okay. if hobie has any say in it, miles will never have to go through what he did and understand what it’s like.

his voice is meek as he asks, “are they mad?”

“‘course not.” miles clicks his tongue, gently admonishing, like it’s a fact hobie should know by now; his fingers trace gentle circles into hobie’s skin. “just worried. hope you know my mama’s gonna feed you thrice the usual serving of tres leches when we get back.”

that gets a chuckle out of him at least, but the look on jeff’s face still haunts him, burned front and centre into his mind’s eye like an afterimage. “and your dad?” he feels miles go still, doesn’t resist as his boyfriend pulls back to look hobie in the eye. his voice is terribly gentle.

“he understands. it’s okay.”

hobie doesn’t think it’s okay. it doesn’t feel very okay. jeff had disliked him at first and reasonably so; he’s nothing like a person anyone would want their kid to be with.

and yet the captain had let him into their home, accepted him as miles’s person, given him a place at the table. of course rio would have sat him down and shoved food into his hands regardless, but still—

“hobie.”

miles calls his attention back, and he looks up into wide, dark eyes. his heart burns.

“he knows what you’ve been through. he knows how much you’ve grown.” miles huffs a soft laugh, rubbing his thumb against hobie’s hairline. “do you remember that time we went to your concert?”

hobie nods; he doesn’t think he can speak just yet.

“you were so nervous about what he would think, but he was stressing about looking like an old man in front of your friends. he literally said that as your boyfriend’s dad he had to out-hip all the other guys his age.”

something twists in hobie’s chest. “he’s the coolest old man i know.” he pauses, frowning. “maybe after peter b.”

miles laughs again, quietly. “he cares about you.”

hobie doesn’t doubt that. he’d let jeff and rio learn about him piece by piece, and with every sliver of information jeff had softened more; he might be the captain of the PDNY, but he was also a father.

hobie’s never really had a father.

not until he was asked about whether he preferred waffles or pancakes. until he was consulted for advice on what to wear to a pride parade. until jeff only looked at his blue laces with a tentative expression and he was hesitantly slipped a phone number to call if he ever got into trouble in this dimension that he couldn’t get himself out of, a helpline should he ever need it.

so he gets up, takes a deep breath and hauls miles to his feet. his boots clomp down the stairs; he takes care not to fling open the door and when he sees jeff and rio hovering in the living room, he holds out his arms.

rio reaches him first. she’s shorter but fierce, pulling hobie down to hug him tight, and he feels like crying again.

miles slips close to cling to his back, arms sliding around his waist, and hobie watches jeff meet his eyes with something almost anxious.

hobie’s lips twist in a smile. an i’m sorry and an it’s okay wrapped in one.

and maybe it really is okay, because when jeff comes around to squeeze them all together, hobie can’t help his relieved sigh as he thinks, this is what family’s supposed to feel like, certain as the next deep breath he takes and comforting like the broad hand that squeezes his shoulder.

fin.

[pineappical]

would calling this something like "the sun to his earth" be a little bit too cliche? maybe...

[gottagobackintime]

Trent going from “Is this a fucking joke?” to “And though I believe that Ted Lasso will fail here…” to excitedly running up to Ted saying “It’s going to work!”

[thesunnys1deup]

I don't know man I have nothing else to post.

Have some Mv2 because these two are literally my life source at this point, also V2 welding herself a new arm (it totally won't get stolen this time) and Merge <3

Don't come after me I don't know how to draw welding tools, I just thought "Haha looks like swordsmachine" and kept it as is.

Btw is anyone else in the process of reading 17776? Juice is literally me guys (Literally jupiter icy moons space craft)((Desperately scratching at my friends' dms like a dog trying to get them to read the silly blocks of yellow text I sent them.))

Am I a person or am I just a bunch of Juice yellow text in a trench coat.

[carelessapples]

watched tfp for the first time and left with a new favorite character

[prompt-master]

I know that Haibara is a genuinely tragic character but also its so funny how often she sees something slightly tragic and goes "it's just like me fr"

[spicysucculentz]

I’m SO excited for football to be back tonight you guys have no idea

[lychiism]

……… DOMITRENT *CROWD GOES WILD*

[greenlaut]

they’re in love your honor

[isalabells]

„Es ist auch interessant beim Fußball, es ist immer noch ein Spiel. Stehste da einmal richtig, machst das Tor. Das sind genau diese Momente. Das Glück muss auf deiner Seite sein, da muss einfach so viel zusammenlaufen. [...] Es gibt auch Momente, wo ich sag, ‚Okay, wär vielleicht zu einem anderen Zeitpunkt besser gewesen.' Wenn ich ein bisschen älter gewesen wär, noch ein bisschen mehr Erfahrung. Aber im Nachgang– im Finale zu sein und zu spielen, ich mein, was gibt's Besseres für einen Fußballer?“

2014 FIFA World Cup Final | Maracanã Stadium | Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 13 July 2014

Germany 1 – 0 Argentina

Götze 113'

[swashbucklery]

Taylor Alison Swift did not leap from the gallows and levitate down your street so that you could assume she was rivals with number one camp messy serial killer bisexual rockstar Lestat de Lioncourt. They're shit-talking each other's ex-boyfriends over a bottle of wine right now. They're working on several dozen collaborative tracks about how much they want to murder their exes while also calling them crying at 4am. He's not Dylan Thomas. She's not Patti Smith. You get it.